


Our Own Devils

by DellaMoore



Series: Fandom High [3]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dirty Talk, Drug Use, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Smut, Miscommunication, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 08:53:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13120371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DellaMoore/pseuds/DellaMoore
Summary: Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan have been friends for a long time. Feelings have been had and hidden for just as long. Pining, denial, and bad coping methods only seem to make the situation worse. What will it take for them to realize how much they need each other?





	1. Old Habits Die Hard

“Statistically speaking, the probability of that occurring without alcohol-induced…”

“Whoa, whoa Pretty Boy. It’s a joke.” Derek laughed at the confused lines along Reid’s forehead.

“Oh.” Reid ran a hand through his long curls, his eyes skittering away.

“So what do you say, Reid?”

“I don’t know.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun.” Prentiss added from her spot on the floor.

“I have studying…”

“Spence, we all know you read those text books the day you bought them and you could easily school the teachers.” J.J. raised a brow. She was lying on the floor, head resting on Prentiss’ outstretched legs. 

“I’m not studying for that.”

“At the very least, Reid, you’ll get to laugh at Morgan when he gets sloppy drunk.” Hotch called from the kitchen, coming in carrying sodas.

“I. . . well. . . I. . .” Reid stammered, eyes darting around looking for an out.

“Alright, guys! Party isn’t until Friday. Think on it, Kid.” Rossi chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, so I met this girl the other night.” Derek waggled his eyebrows, surveying Reid out of the corner of his eye. Reid scrunched up his face before turning back to the papers spread out before him on the coffee table.

“Oh honey, aren’t I the only lovely lady in your life?” Garcia pipped in with a giggle.

“Only one that matters, Mama.” Derek wrapped an arm around the bubbly blonde beside him.

Derek couldn’t help the glances he threw at Reid as the group bantered back and forth. There was a reason he called him “Pretty Boy.” Between those long curls and sharp cheek bones and all that pale, pale skin, he was prettier than most of the girls Derek knew.

He remembered how he’d first met Reid. It had been years ago.  _Derek had been walking home with_ _Hotch_ _after a football game. They’d heard yelling and jeers from the local park and walked up on a crowd of high school kids, surrounding a young boy, stripped naked and tied up to a flag pole. Derek shouldered his way through the crowd, cutting the kid loose and wrapping him up in his own jacket._ _Hotch_ _had dispersed_ _the group._

_The kid was sobbing, curled in on himself. He_ _’d_ _shied away from Derek’s touch,_ _hiccuping_ _sobs shaking_ _the boy’s thin shoulders._ _Hotch_ _returned carrying a pile of clothes. The boy hurried to dress. His shirt was torn and his sweater vest was unsalvageable._

_“Are you okay?” Derek had asked._

_“I thought. . ._ _thought she wanted to be my friend.”_

_“What happened?”_ _Hotch_ _asked._

_“They tricked me.” He sucked in harsh breaths. “_ _I_ _have to_ _go_ _home.”_

_“Hey, Kid, I’m Derek.” He rifled through the_ _pockets of his jeans and scrawled_ _his number on a scrap of paper_ _that he handed_ _to the kid. “Just give me a call if you need anything okay.”_

_The kid nodded, stuffing the paper in his pocket, and he hurried down to the street._

_He’d received a panicked_ _phone call_ _a few months later_ _. He could still hear the gasping sobs echoing in his ear._

“Morgan, you still there?” Garcia’s voice shocked him back to reality. 

“Yeah, yeah. What’s up?”

“Dinner, you coming?” Reid asked, wrapping his scarf around his neck, sadly covering up the long expanse of pale skin. “I need some coffee.”

“I don’t think so, Spence.” JJ laughed. “Three cups is more than enough for one evening.”

Derek watched as his friends laughed their way out of the room. With a sigh he followed.


	2. Parties and Spencer Reid

Spencer paced the length of the darkened room. Back and forth, back and forth. The pounding continued like a jack hammer in his skull. The doctor’s words echoing in his head.  _Have you considered a psychosomatic cause?_

“I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy. I’m  _not crazy_.” He muttered, his pacing speeding up, and his fists beating at the sides of his head to try and stop the pain. Even the tiny amount of light peeking through the blankets covering the window was painful and the faint chatter of voices outside wasn’t helping. He groaned internally when the door slammed open, hoping against hope that it was just Hotch picking up a book or something. Of course, he’d never been that lucky and Morgan burst into their shared room. Spencer threw an arm over his eyes, but still groaned in pain when Morgan hit the lights. Instantly the lights went back out and Morgan’s big hands landed on Spencer’s shoulders. They radiated heat and he felt some of the tension seep out of his body.

“What’s wrong, Pretty Boy? Another headache?”

“Yeah.” He groaned.

“Come on, lie down.” Morgan led him towards a bed and pushed him down. There was some rummaging around before Morgan returned, pressing a couple pills past his dry lips followed by cold water. Morgan sat next to him, pulling Spencer’s head into his lap. Strong fingers dug into his hair, slowly massaging his scalp until the tension slowly eased out of his body. Spencer couldn’t stop the small groan that escaped

“Shh, Pretty Boy, I got you. Go to sleep and I’ll take care of you.” Spencer could feel that rumbling voice surround him.

“Promise?” Spencer’s voice was soft and muffled by sleep.

“Always, baby boy.” Derek Morgan featured in the dreams that followed, so he couldn’t be sure if that response was real or imagined. All he really knew was that he woke up alone in Morgan’s bed, surrounded by the other man’s scent. He couldn’t stop himself from burying his face in Morgan’s pillow and grinding his erection into the sheets. He pictured Morgan pressing him into the pillow with a hand on the back of his neck and the other wrapped around his cock. The sound of the door opening and Hotch’s voice in the kitchen had him fleeing to the bathroom and finishing himself in the shower to the memory of Morgan’s hands in his hair and his deep voice calling him Pretty Boy.

“Hey, you feeling better?” Derek was sitting on his bed when Spencer returned to their shared room.

“Much better. Thank you. Statistics show that relaxation and sleep are 75% better at ridding the body of pain than medication.

Morgan chuckled. “Anytime, Pretty Boy. You going to the party tonight?”

Spencer groaned. “I don’t. . .”

“Wait, wait, I know you don’t do the party scene, but if you go I promise we won’t leave you all alone.” Morgan smiled up at him expectantly and Spencer could feel himself caving. 

“Fine.” He sighed knowing that Morgan wasn’t going to give it up

“But I get to pick what you wear.”

“No, no, no. I never agreed to that.”

“Too late!” Morgan was already up and digging into Spencer’s closet. “Aaron!”

Spencer sank into his bed in defeat as Hotch joined Morgan. Two books later and the two older boys had finally decided on something.

“Those pants don’t even fit. They’re too small.”

“They’re supposed to be tight, Reid.” Hotch laughed as they left him to dress in a pair of tight skinny jeans, a blue button up, and black silk skinny tie. He was just lacing up his sneakers when Morgan came back in.

“No, no come here.” Morgan waived him over. He loosened Spencer’s tie and undid the top buttons of his shirt. He had to suppress a shiver as the feeling of Morgan’s skin brushing his. He fled as quickly as possible after that.

“Where’s the fire, sugar?” Garcia asked, looking far too put together for what was probably going to be a mess of alcohol and sex-simulating dancing.

“Morgan’s just changing.”

“Honey, I’d pay to see that show.” She chuckled and patted the seat beside her. “And I know you would too, so what’s the problem.”

“He’s my best friend, Penny.”

“So you’ve already passed the awkward get-to-know-you stage of the relationship.”

“He hardly ever even sleeps with guys, let alone dates them. And especially not freaks like me.” Spencer sighed.

“He doesn’t think you’re a freak and you look great tonight. He wouldn’t be able to say no to that pretty face and especially not that cute ass.” She giggled at the face he pulled.

“Can we just go already?”

“Boy genius and I are leaving, slow pokes.” She called as she dragged him out the door.

*******

Spencer sighed from his spot in the corner. It had been three hours and Derek Morgan had spent all night ignoring him. Garcia and JJ were dancing with their boyfriends. Hotch had taken off with Hailey as soon as she’d arrived. Rossi was chatting up a blonde across the room and Emily was already three sheets to the wind. He slipped out of the crowded room deciding to use the bathroom before he left. The hall was dark and he was too distracted to notice the person following him until he was shoved into the bathroom from behind. He heard the door lock a second before he was bent over the sink. He recognized the voice whispering into his ear well enough, but his brain had trouble connecting it to the hands running along his chest.

“Fuck, you look so gorgeous tonight. Can’t stand to see you anymore without my hands on you.” His words were slightly slurred, his full lips mouthing at the pale column of Spencer’s neck.

“Morgan?” His brain was running a mile a minute unable to understand what was happening and the sensations of Morgan’s fingers brushing his nipple didn’t help matters.

“Pretty Boy, dammit, I can’t stand this, wanting you so bad.”

Spencer pushed the other man back enough to turn around and suddenly Morgan’s lips were on his. It was sloppy and messy from the alcohol, but it was still so much better than he’d ever imagined. Morgan’s hand slipped into his long hair, easily tilting his head the way he wanted to plunder the smaller man’s mouth. His mouth was hot and demanding, tongue slipping in when Spencer moaned. That hard toned body he’d only glimpsed before was now pressed up against him, fitting effortlessly against his own.

When he finally got his mind together he realized that Morgan was drunker than he’d ever seen and would likely have no idea of what he was doing. He pushed the other man away, only for him to wobble and nearly fall down, further emphasizing his point that Morgan was far too drunk to be in a sound state of mind. He turned his head when Morgan leaned in for another kiss.

“Come on, let’s go.” 

“I don’t wanna. Want you. Here. Now.” Coherent sentences were apparently becoming too difficult for the man.

“You’re drunk, Morgan.”

“So. Don’t matter.”

“Yes, it does. I would be taking advantage of you if I let this go farther.”

“No, I’ll advantage you.” He muttered, swaying as he tried to stand on his own.

“Let’s get you to bed.” He figured logic was beyond Morgan’s capacity at the moment.

“Yeah, fuck you in a bed.” Spencer had to hold back his whimper at that. “You deserve a bed, baby.”

Spencer wrapped an arm around Morgan’s waist and started leading him out of the house. They ran into Hotch on the way out, but Spencer just waived him off. He could take care of Morgan on his own and besides he didn’t want anyone else to hear the dirty things Morgan kept muttering in his ear.

“Wanna pull your hair when you suck my cock.” He whispered trying and failing to grab Spencer’s hair.

“Want to hear you scream my name. Tell the neighbor who you belong to.”

“Gonna lick and play with your little hole until you beg me to fuck you.”

Spencer was fully hard by the time they got back to their dorm just from Morgan’s words. He’d never done any of those things, but with Morgan he wanted to more than he’d ever wanted anything before in his life. When he finally dumped Morgan onto his bed, he was startled to realize the man had fisted his hand in his shirt and got pulled down with him. Faster than he should have been able to Morgan was on top of him, kissing him deeply. He could feel Morgan’s erection press hot and heavy against his own through his jeans and he groaned, losing himself in the sudden pleasure. With a few rough shoves Morgan was coming, groaning out his name and it was enough to send Spencer over the edge. As he lay there panting he heard Morgan mutter a single line before passing out.

“Love you, Pretty Boy.”

It was a simple thing, something he’d said before but never in such a context. It kept him up most of the night even when he heard Rossi stumble in hours later with a giggling girl. All he could think about was how much he hoped Morgan would remember it in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any statistics I write into this story are fully and completely made up. I guess I could’ve looked up some real ones, but it was just easier to fabricate some shit that Reid would say.
> 
> Also alcohol use should be reserved for responsible legal adults. I may be going to hell, but it won’t be for encouraging substance abuse. 
> 
> PS. I’m absolutely Garcia in this chapter. Hells yeah I’d pay to see that show.


	3. Hangovers are Bad News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains drug use.

Derek woke up with a pounding head ache and sticky pants. How embarrassing was that? He managed to pull himself out of bed and into the shower slowly but with minimal noise so he didn’t wake up Reid in the bed across the room.

An hour and most of the building’s hot water later and he was feeling much better. He still didn’t remember anything of the previous night. At least not after his fifth shot after seeing Spencer chatting up a tall dark haired man in a blue scarf. But damn did his ass look fantastic in those jeans though. Tight enough to show it off but enough to keep it all covered. He’d wanted to bend the boy over the nearest surface and fuck him until he screamed, witnesses or not. Instead he’d chosen to drink and try and lose himself in a drunken hookup. Considering that he’d woken up alone in his own bed with dried cum in his pants, that hadn’t been very successful. One of his friends must have lugged his drunken ass back home. He’d have to thank them later.

He found Reid in the kitchen dousing his coffee with enough sugar to kill a horse. He’d never know how the kid wasn’t diabetic yet from the pure amount of sugar he consumed on a daily basis. His head still pounded dully as he leaned into the fridge, eyes squinting at the light until he found what he was looking for. “Fuck, what happened last night, kid? You know who carried my drunk ass home?”

He saw Spencer freeze at his words, hand pausing over his cup and spoon clinking against the rim. “You. . . you don’t remember?” Damn the kid sounded almost frightened.

“No. Did something happen?” He was confused. He hadn’t seen Spencer like this in years, eyes wide and staring, narrow shoulders so tense they were nearly shaking.

“No. Nothing.” He spoke much too quickly to be anything but suspicious. And with that he grabbed his coffee and hurried out the door. Derek stood there staring at the door until Hotch came through it, the clothes he’d worn the night before rumpled and his hair a mess.

“What a party!” Hotch grinned. “Looks like Reid got you home ok.”

“Reid brought me back?” How’d the scrawny kid manage that one?

“Yeah, looked like he was practically carrying you too. You were so out of it man, muttering nonsense.”

“Did anything else happen?” 

“No, why?” Hotch took the orange juice from Derek’s hands, pouring himself a glass.

“I don’t know, Reid was acting strange this morning.”

Hotch just shrugged. “Maybe he’s hung over too. Kid’s a lightweight.”

But Hotch was wrong, he had to be because Spencer was avoiding him like the plague. Every time he’d walk into a room, Reid would leave. He hadn’t said a thing to Derek since that morning and he’d stayed at the library until well after Derek had fallen asleep only to be gone before he’d woken up, only the rumpled sheets and dirty clothes on the floor showing that he’d been in the room at all.

It’d been three days now with no show of Spencer coming around. Derek was lying across Garcia’s couch complaining. “Baby Girl, I don’t know what to do.”

“He has been a bit odd since the party.”

“And he hasn’t said anything to you?” He looked over at the blonde.

She shook her head. “He hasn’t been talking to anyone. Not even J.J.” 

“What do I do?”

“You’re just going to have to corner him and talk it out.”

Derek headed back towards his dorm, determined to make Reid talk to him. Had he said something to upset the kid? He knew he could be an ass when he drank too much. Had he made fun of him? Did Reid hate him now? He was near panicking by the time he reached their shared room. He heard giggles, genuine giggles, from behind the door. He pushed it open to find Spencer sprawled across his bed with the tall, dark haired man he’d been talking to at the party. They were both staring at the ceiling, a couple needles discarded on the floor next to a vial of brownish liquid. 

“Reid, what the hell?” Two pairs of glazed, dilated eyes turned towards him.

“That him?” The dark haired male asked, turning his gaze slowly towards Reid.

Reid broke into a fresh set of giggles, head lulling to the side. “Yep.”

“Are you high?” Derek demanded though he knew the answer already.

“As a kite.” The guy answered, reaching up to run a hand through his dark curls. Reid was watching him with wide eyes.

“I wasn’t talking to you. Who the hell are you anyway?”

“Sherlock Holmes!” The man grinned. “Consulting detective.”

Derek shook his head, whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. He moved towards the bed, hands turning Reid’s head towards him. “Reid, man, are you ok?”

“I’m great.” His eyes were unfocused, not seeming to be able to focus on Derek. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

“What doesn’t hurt? Your head?” He asked. Both of the boys on the bed began laughing again.

“Your head is psy. . . cho. . . so. . . mat. . . ic. That’s a fun word to say.” The other guy, Sherlock, managed to say.

“Not crazy.” Reid replied, hand reaching out to shove at the dark haired man, but got distracted by the blue silk scarf lying on the bed.

“What’d you take? Reid, what’d you take?”

“I’ve a list!” Sherlock answered.

“No, no, not my list.” Reid answered.

Dramatic music broke the light giggles and Sherlock fumbled around until his hand landed on a phone. He raised a finger to his lips. “Shhh, it’s my brother.”

Derek snatched the phone away, answering it with the press of a button.

“Sherlock? Where are you?” A panicked voice shouted through the device.

“Are you looking for Sherlock Holmes?”

“Yes, who is this?” The voice sounded suspicious. 

“Derek Morgan, Sherlock is in my dorm high as a fucking kite with my roommate.”

“Where?”

Derek gave him the address and the phone went dead. He sat stroking Spencer’s hair as he dozing in and out of consciousness. Fifteen minutes later a man dressed in a three piece suit burst in, shaking Sherlock’s shoulders to wake him up.

“Where’s your list, Sherlock?”

“Go ‘way, Mycroft.” He muttered.

“Sherlock, the damn list.”

Derek watched as the boy drew a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, throwing it at his brother.

“Dilaudid? Where in the hell did you even  _get_  dilaudid?” 

“Not telling.”

“Hiya, Myc.” Reid grinned, waving his hand lightly.

“Hello, Spencer. Why is my brother here?”

“My fault, not sorry though.”

The man, Mycroft sighed. “It’s not your fault, Spencer. He’d have shot up with or without you.” 

“Do you know what he took?” Derek asked. 

Mycroft pocketed the vial and the needles before pulling his brother to his feet. “Dilaudid, it’s highly addictive. Keep an eye on him, if he hasn’t used it before then he should be fine as long as he keeps away from it in the future.” 

“What do I do?”

“It should wear off in an hour or so. Come on, Sherlock.”

Derek watched the two stumble out the door before he turned to his friend. His large doe eyes were half-lidded and a goofy smile still adorned his face. “Why’d you do it, Spence?”

“Tired of hurting, Derek.” He mumbled, turning his face into Derek’s chest.

“What’s hurting you, Pretty Boy?”

“You.”

“Me? I’m hurting you? What’d I do?”

“All the things you said.”

“When I was drunk?”

The boy nodded and Derek felt his heart clench in his chest. He’d never wanted to hurt his Pretty Boy, never,  _especially_  not this badly.

“I’m so sorry, Baby Boy, I didn’t mean any of it.”

“Sleepy. Hold me, Derek?” Spencer murmured.

He drew the thin boy closer, laying them both out on the bed. Fuck, what’d he say that had hurt the kid so badly? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I in no way condone drug use, especially not something so damaging and highly addictive. I also may have gotten the symptoms off a bit, sorry, but it worked better with the story this way. I really feel like Spencer and Sherlock would have a strange friendship, but it would be highly amusing to witness. Stay tuned for more angst and finally some decent communication between these two.
> 
> That being said, I'm so sorry that this took so long to upload. I've been on limited internet access since my internet got shut off. Because of that I don't really know when I'll be updating again. I'll try to have the new chapter up in the next week or two, but no promises.


	4. Aftermath

Spencer cursed his stupidity. He should never have gotten high in his dorm room. He’d just been so upset and he’d wanted the pain to go away, so Sherlock had come over, already more than a bit high himself and he’d brought Dilaudid. It had quieted his mind for a while, numbing the hurt and the confusion. But then he’d woken up in Derek’s arms everything had come crashing back. Derek had shouted at him for the drugs, he wasn’t surprised by that though. But then the anger had seemed to dissipate. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it, Pretty Boy, what I said when I was drunk.” Derek had said, nearly catching Spencer off guard.

“I know.” He replied softly. He’d suspected as much. Derek Morgan had been so drunk he’d simply gone for the first person he’d seen. That just happened to be Reid. It was just a bad stroke of luck that Spencer had already had feelings for him. He couldn’t hold the tears back any longer though, so he ran to the bathroom. He sat on the floor of the shower, water cascading down on him and sobbed. 

Even after the shower he couldn’t force himself to leave the bathroom. Not even when Morgan began pounding on the door, all but begging him to unlock it and come out. He just stood there looking in the mirror at his too pale face and the dark purple bags under his red rimmed eyes. He hadn't been sleeping, at least no more than an hour or two at a time ever since that night. 

“Damn it, Reid, open this door or I will break it down.”

Sighing he finally opened the door, brushing past Morgan and headed back into their room. He knew full well that the darker skinned man would follow him. 

“Just talk to me, okay? I didn't –”

“Mean it? I'm aware!” Spencer snapped, cutting him off before he could say that hurtful phrase once more. 

“What exactly did I say? What did I say that hurt you so badly that you won’t even talk to me? That you shoot up drugs with some guy you met at a party.”

“First of all, I’ve known Sherlock for quite a while and it’s not even the first time I got high with him so don’t flatter yourself into thinking that I did it for you.” He snapped, enjoying the surprise that crossed his friend’s face. None of them had known about his drug habit, he’d wanted it that way, but now that Derek knew part of it he wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore anyway. It was go big or go home, right?

“Reid. . .”

“And you don’t even remember? Then how do you know you didn’t mean it?” Perhaps that was a bit mean. Derek obviously thought that he’d insulted him or something, but he was hurting and a large part of him wanted to lash out, to make Derek hurt too. He slumped onto his bed in defeat. He was struggling to hold back tears once again. Spencer hated crying, especially in front of people, but he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore.

He remembered the last time he cried in front of Morgan all too clearly. There were times he cursed his memory. 

_His hands had shook_ _as he dialed the number_ _he’d thought he’d never use, but he didn’t know who else to call. He_ had _no one_ _else_ _._

_“Hello?” The husky voice washed over him and he couldn’t hold back the sobs. “Hey, hey what’s going on? Who is this? Are you okay?”_

_And Spencer found himself helpless to avoid the questions, spilling everything that had happened. From his mother’s erratic behavior that had sent his father pack_ _ing_ _years before to how she’d wrecked her car and wound up in the hospital. How the hospital had called his dad and he’d had her admitted. Schizophrenia was the official diagnosis_ _, though they’d all known that. She just refused to take meds for it_ _. And now Spencer was alone and only fourteen, still a minor by state law. They’d_ _have no choice but to_ _send him to his dad’s or to a foster home if his dad wouldn’t take him._

_Spencer had been amazed and_ _more than_ _a little infatuated with the sixteen year old boy who’d dropped everything to come comfort him_ _despite not even knowing him_ _._ _Derek had helped right his world when it felt like he was spinning out of control._ _He’d_ _helped Spencer get admitted to their boarding school, which his dad was more than happy to pay for when he realized he wouldn’t have to take Spencer in, and_ _they’d_ _been inseparable since_ _. They were_ _best friends_ _though Spencer was pretty sure he’d been in love with him from the start_ _. Derek had brought him into his own friend group where he’d finally felt like he belonged._  

Derek was suddenly there beside him, warm arms wrapping around his own shaking form and pulling him back from the memory and into present day. He’d had four years of feeling like he belonged and now once again it felt like Spencer’s world was crumbling. He should’ve know it was going to end like this. It was  _always_ going to be like this for him. 

“Pretty Boy, please tell me what I did.” 

“You lied to me.” The words were barely audible.

“About what?”

Spencer shoved the other man away though it pained him to do it. “For once I finally felt normal. You. . . you made me feel like I wasn’t a freak, like I was actually attractive, like someone could actually want  _me_. Of  _course_  I know you didn’t mean it, Derek. I know that you were drunk and I know that you wouldn’t have kissed me otherwise. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less that you don’t remember telling me I was beautiful. That you wanted me. That you  _loved_  me. So no, I’m not going to let you hold me and tell me once more how you didn’t mean any of the things I’ve been dying to hear you say for longer than I’d care to admit.”

“Pretty Boy – ”

“Don’t call me that.” He shouted, face still wet from crying but the tears seemed to have stopped.

Derek was staring at him in shock, eyes wide and mouth open.

“Just stop trying to make it better, Derek. I don’t want any more lies. Please just let it go.” He turned, moving towards the door. He’d stay at JJ’s or even Sherlock’s if he had to, but he couldn’t stay here any longer, at least not for a while. Derek caught his arm though, stopping his movements and spinning him around.

“Stop running away and let me fucking talk.” Derek’s eyes were dark with frustration and anger. “Just stop for a minute, please. I thought I’d said something mean, a joke or something that offended you. That’s why I said I didn’t mean it. I didn’t know I’d said any of those things and I hate that I don’t remember. I hate that I kissed you and can’t remember what it felt like, how you tasted. I hate that you’re upset, that you think I only said those things because I was drunk. Especially when the truth is that I was only drunk because I thought I  _couldn’t_  say those things. You’ve never given any indication that you were interested in me or that you were even attracted to men in general, so I didn’t say anything. But, Spence. . .” His hand reached up to brush the hair out of hazel eyes. “I call you Pretty Boy because you’re so, so pretty. You’re more beautiful than anyone I’ve ever been with, anyone I’ve ever known. And I do want you, more than anything. I  _do_  love you and it kills me that I can’t remember our first kiss, but I will never, ever forget our next one.”

Spencer watching in shock as Derek leaned closer, lips pressing warm and wet against his own. It took his brain an embarrassingly long moment to catchup, to realize what he was supposed to do. But then he was kissing back and it was wonderful. His arms looped around Derek’s shoulders as the larger man drew him closer.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He whispered against Spencer’s lips, foreheads pressed together.

“Me too. I should’ve talked to you sooner.” Spencer sighed. “I was just scared.”

“I know, but don’t ever be scared to talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore though.”

“Got better ideas then?” Derek laughed.

Spencer grinned, “You made a lot of drunken promises I’m expecting you to uphold.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this took so long to update. You wouldn’t believe that shit storm my life had been lately, but I haven’t forgotten about you all. I promise. This was another kinda short chapter. Sorry about that too. I was originally going to make this one longer, but it just felt like the right place to end it. The moral of the story is: communication is key. . . and don’t do drugs. 
> 
> This chapter is the end of the plot for this story if you’re just here for that kind of thing. If you’re here for smut (I know it was kinda lacking so far) stay tuned because the next chapter is literally just smut.


	5. Making Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pure smut, so if you don't like that then feel free to skip it.

Derek groaned, hearing the filthy things he’d said repeated on Spencer’s tongue was a fantasy he’d never known he had.

“Is that what you want, Pretty Boy? For me to be rough with you?” He asked, fisting a hand in those long curls and tugging lightly. The whine that that earned him went straight to his cock, aching and hard just from the mental images Spencer’s words created.

He leaned forward, using his hand in Reid’s hair to pull him into a rough kiss. The boy went pliant in his arms, submitting easily to his kiss and letting Derek plunder his mouth. His fingers moved almost of their own accord, unbuttoning and shoving Reid’s pants down his long legs. He pulled away to tug the shirt off his lean frame, leaving miles of pale skin on display. A light shove had Reid falling back onto Derek’s bed, arms stretched out to catch himself. He could do no more than stare for a long moment, enjoying his Pretty Boy naked before him, all messy curls and dilated pupils. 

“Don’t!” He growled when Reid’s hands moved to cover himself in embarrassment. He whined softly, but his arms stretch up over his head, fisting the sheets so he wouldn’t try to move them. 

“Good boy.” Derek purred, surprised and pleased when he noticed that pretty dick twitch at the praise. Hmm, maybe Spencer was more submissive than he’d ever dared to imagine. 

“Spencer, baby, if anything makes you uncomfortable or you want to stop, I want you to tell me immediately, understand?”

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded, breath hitching as he stared up at Derek with wide eyes. 

Derek grinned. “Good, but unless that’s the case I want you to do exactly as I say. Will you be a good boy for me, baby?”

Spencer nodded hurriedly. 

“Good. Now spread your legs. I want to see you.” He growled the words, trailing his fingers down one leg. 

Spencer whimpered, hurrying to obey, pale legs spreading wide to show his little hole and his long, pale cock bobbing above it. Derek groaned at the sight, at how easily his Pretty Boy obeyed him. He let his fingers trail teasing paths over his body, lightly grazing nipples before moving down and brushing over his cock and finally circling his little hole. 

“What do you want first, baby?” He cooed, finger moving oh so slowly but not applying any pressure. 

“I. . . I want. . . want you n. . . naked too.” Spencer panted, eyes traveling the length of Derek’s body. 

Derek hummed, having momentarily forgotten that he was still fully clothed. He shed his clothes quickly, wanting his hands back on the gorgeous boy laid out across his bed. When he was blissfully naked, he pressed forward again to kiss already swollen lips, ravaging his mouth and earning little moans of pleasure. He kissed down that long neck, pausing to bite marks into his pale skin before moving on to his nipples. Derek loved the little gasps and groans he earned with each new touch. 

“Wanna taste you, Pretty Boy.” Derek purred, his hand stroking gently over Spencer’s hard length. 

“F. . . fuck!” Spencer groaned much to Derek’s pleasant surprise when he took the head into his mouth. Reid didn’t curse much, though Derek always considered it a victory if he could coax foul language out of him. 

He drew on the length slowly, swirling his tongue around the head to catch a taste of beading precum. He could feel Reid tensing, his thighs shaking and his hips jerking weakly. Derek pulled off before he could come, earning a disappointed whine. He chuckled, nipping at one alabaster thigh and sucked a dark bruise into the skin.

“I’m not nearly done with you yet.”

Derek moved on, swirling his tongue around the boy’s puckered entrance. Spencer arched, crying out. He had to hold his hips down as he pressed in. Spencer’s fingers scratched at the back of his head. 

“De _rek!_ ”

Derek hummed, continuing his ministrations, focusing on opening Reid up with his tongue and enjoying the moans and cries that escaped the boy as he withered on the bed. 

“Derek! Derek, I’m close!” Spencer panted and Derek drew back once more, this time only to fetch a bottle of lube from the night stand. 

Large eyes watched him as he wet his fingers before falling shut at the first press inwards. His finger sank in easily, Spencer’s body swallowing him up in a way that made his cock ache. Spencer winced as he pressed in a second finger, so he went back to licking and sucking at his cock. Already worked up, it didn’t take long before he was thrusting back and forth between Derek’s mouth and fingers, panting and whining. 

“Come for me, baby.” Derek purred before sinking down at the same time he thrust his fingers, slamming into his prostate.

Spencer screamed as he came, shooting heavily down Derek’s throat. He swallowed the bitter taste down, slipping a third finger in while the boy had been distracted. 

Spencer moaned as Derek continued to stretch him, brushing against his prostate with each thrust. He trembled, fingers scratching at Derek’s back. It was gorgeous and Derek was stunned by the pride welling in his chest.  _He_ had been the one to leave Spencer Reid a shaking mess of pleasure.  _He_  was the one who could shut up that brilliant brain of his.  _He_ was the one to bring this much pleasure to the boy. 

A stuttering cry at a particularly harsh jab to his prostate had Derek’s eyes drawing back to the boy before him. He was flushed all the way down his chest, dark marks beginning to show against his pale skin, and mouth open on panting breaths. He was surprised to notice Reid getting hard once again. Curious, he pressed harder on his prostate, drawing an aborted moan from his lips. 

“Look at you, baby. Already hard again.” Derek purred.

“D. . . Der. . . Derek! I want. . .”

“What do you want pretty boy?”

His hips jumped at the pet name and Derek momentarily forgot about his own arousal, too focused on the boy in front of him. 

“Want. . . you in. . . inside me. . .” He seemed to struggle with the words, his own moans cutting him off as Derek pressed deliberately on his prostate, thumb circling his stretched rim easily swallowing three fingers. 

“Oh, I’m gonna fuck you baby boy, but first I think I want to see you come again. Think you can do it? Can you come from just this? Without even touching that pretty little cock?”

Spencer moaned at the words, biting his lip and grinding his hips. “Yes! Yes, please!”

Derek pushed one long leg up until it almost touched his Spencer’s chest, allowing his fingers to press deeper. He reached up to tweak a nipple as he massaged his prostate and suddenly Spencer was seizing up, cum shooting up to his own chin. There’s wasn’t much this time. 

Derek pulled away, his own erection beginning to grow painful and slicked himself up. He pressed in while he was relaxed. Spencer shouted, his oversensitive hole clamping down on Derek’s cock and nearly dragging his control away. He moved slowly at first, not wanting to overwhelm the boy. 

Beneath him, Spencer thrashed. His cock hadn’t even fully softened from his last orgasm and he was digging his nails into Derek’s back. 

“Too much. . . too much. . . don’t stop!” He nearly shrieked. 

Unable to stop himself, Derek drew him into a messy kiss, fucking into him faster and harder until his own orgasm washed over him. He shouted something that might have been the other’s name and it had Spencer coming again, nearly dry this time, as Derek filled him. 

They fell together, panting and sticky, but distinctly satisfied. Derek brushed loose curls from the other’s sweaty forehead. “You okay?”

Spencer nodded. “That was. . .”

“Yeah.” Derek agreed. He pulled out, Spencer wincing slightly, and drew him into his arms. 

“I’m tired.”

“Then sleep, baby boy. I got you.” Derek whispered, kissing his messy hair. He was pretty exhausted himself and was debating if it was worth getting up to clean them off before falling asleep.

“I’m happy you guys made up and all, but you wanna keep it down next time?” Hotch yelled through the door making Derek chuckle. Spencer blushed, tucking his face into Derek’s neck. 

Yeah, maybe a nap first would be the best option. He drew Spence close, his heart swelling when he realized he could really have this. Somehow this gorgeous boy loved Derek as much as he loved him. 

“I love you, Spence.” He whispered. 

Spencer’s grin made everything they’d dealt with in the last few days worth it. “Love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took me so damn long to finish this fic. Between school, switching jobs, and moving my life has been chaos. I was going to finish it off after the last chapter, but I wanted some smut, so here we are.
> 
> I don't own any of these characters, just the school in which this AU takes place. Derek and Spencer and most of their friends belong to the brilliant writers of Criminal Minds.
> 
> Thank you to all of you who've stuck with me through this story. I appreciate your likes and comments more than you can possibly know. If anyone has an suggestions for this AU let me know, I'm always open to new ideas.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is very short, but fret not, the following chapters will be longer. 
> 
> Title comes from an Oscar Wilde quote, “We are each our own devils, and we make this world our Hell.”


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